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He stayed still as she kissed him, allowing her to explore while his heart rate ticked up and he could feel need flood his body. It felt good. He hadn’t truly wanted anything in so long. He’d been walking through his days, simply getting through each hour, and now he realized how empty that had been.
She kissed him over and over, her hands starting to graze his chest, and he wondered how long he would be able to stay still. She was driving him crazy with each touch.
Then her mouth opened and he felt the tentative brush of her tongue, and he had his answer.
His hands came up, winding around her and drawing her closer as he took over the kiss. He eased her over to take the dominant position and she went soft, clinging to him.
Then he was the one staring down at her. “This is a bad idea, but I can’t seem to help myself.”
“Bad idea?”
“You’re going to leave me, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to break my heart, Brynn. But I can’t make myself care right now.” Every word was proven true because he couldn’t help lowering his head and kissing her again.
“You’re a pessimist, Deputy Major,” she whispered against his lips. “You don’t know what I’ll do.”
But he did. She would leave and he would stay, but why did that matter now? He spent so much time worried about the future that he never enjoyed the present. He was living in the moment, and the moment right now included Brynn. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, I can’t help myself.”
He lowered his head down and kissed her again.
That was when Dolly decided to bark.
He looked over and both dogs were staring at them, seemingly disgruntled.
Brynn started giggling, her arms still around him.
Next time, he was getting a dog-sitter. He thought about ignoring them entirely, but then he heard the sound of a boat.
Maybe it wasn’t coming here. Maybe it would power right on by them.
“Hey, Major! You here?”
Armie. He sighed and reluctantly rolled off Brynn. “It’s my boss. I’m sorry. Sometimes things go wrong and I get called in on my off days.”
“Brynn! Brynn! Are you out here? Baby, are you hurt? I swear to god and on every lawyer I can hire that if my baby is hurt I will make sure you never work in law enforcement again.”
Brynn practically turned white. “That’s my mother. Why is my mom here? She doesn’t like nature.”
He helped her up. He was going to bet her mom wouldn’t like him, either.
chapter six
“I wish you’d had your radio on you. We could have saved a lot of trouble,” Armie said as Major stepped on the dock. “Ms. Pearson doesn’t like not knowing where her daughter is. I tried to explain to her that Brynn couldn’t possibly be a missing person because other people knew where she was. I had Seraphina talk to her, but she wouldn’t listen.”
He glanced up to the dock where Brynn was currently talking to her mother. Her mom looked like a way more uptight version of Brynn. She was wearing a power suit and what had to be five-inch heels, and he had to admit the woman made them work. She hadn’t tripped on the uneven ground or wobbled when she’d strode across the island, yelling for her baby.
“I didn’t bring my radio because it’s my day off and I wanted to relax. I’ve been on call for weeks,” Major pointed out.
“You’re never not on call,” Armie replied, his eyes narrowing. “And that is not my fault. I have to force you to take a day off. You’re the man who keeps your radio on all night.” Armie’s lips curled up in a Cheshire Cat–like grin. “You like the actress.”
He did, but he wasn’t sure admitting that to one of the worst gossips in town was a smart idea. Oh, Armie wouldn’t admit it, but the man liked to talk. “She helped me out yesterday, and I thought I would pay her back by showing her around Papillon.”
“Yeah, we should talk about how she helped you,” Armie began, his face falling.
“Hey, are you Tighty-Whitie?”
He turned and remembered that Brynn’s mother hadn’t come alone. She’d been accompanied by Brynn’s sister, who hated everything. Everything. The young woman had complained constantly since they’d been introduced. He’d been pretty sure she wouldn’t remember his name, and now he was sure. “I’m Major Blanchard.”
Ally Pearson was in her early twenties, and her hair was cut in a chic bob, the tips a vibrant purple contrasting with the almost white blond. She wore a long boho-style skirt and a tiny tank top she’d tied to show off her flat stomach. She held up her phone and snapped a quick pic of him. “Nope. You’re Tighty-Whitie. And if you had been smart enough to not get caught in mud, I would still be in LA. I was supposed to have another week before I got dragged to this hellhole. But no, you had to jump into quicksand with that insanely adorable dog of yours.”
